


Black Tie

by Vae



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician)
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, M/M, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-25
Updated: 2010-08-25
Packaged: 2017-12-07 07:35:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/745950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vae/pseuds/Vae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bondage, porn and a black tie</p>
            </blockquote>





	Black Tie

**Author's Note:**

> These characters are fictional. The situation is fictional. Resemblance to real people may be inferred, but not really. No offense intended.
> 
> Thanks to [](http://sistercarrion.livejournal.com/profile)[**sistercarrion**](http://sistercarrion.livejournal.com/) for the kink beta, [](http://lvs2read.livejournal.com/profile)[**lvs2read**](http://lvs2read.livejournal.com/) for the grammar beta and [](http://aerynvala.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://aerynvala.livejournal.com/)**aerynvala** for the Lambliff beta. Feedback and concrit always welcome.

Adam's barely been able to stop thinking about it since he'd knotted the tie around Tommy's neck as they left the dressing rooms. Sure, the idea had been to make sure Tommy would be thinking about him through the performance - more than usual - and sure, he'd sprayed some of his own cologne on the tie, but that had just turned out to be really fucking distracting when Tommy came to rub up against him and he hadn't been able to stop himself reaching out for Tommy. He'd managed to stop just before he'd actually pulled Tommy's hand away from his bass, contenting himself with a squeeze around Tommy's wrist instead that had promised more for later.

Later is now.

Later is fucking beautiful, Tommy's eyes heavy-lidded and dark, pupils blown and not quite focused on him, make-up smeared from the swipe of Adam's thumb. He's not even waiting for Tommy to get the shirt off, just loosening the knot of the tie enough to slip it over Tommy's head, scrape of his nails on the back of Tommy's neck as they pass. "You kept this on for me?"

There's a slyness in Tommy's eyes as he lifts his head again, looking up through those ridiculous eyelashes at Adam, acknowledgment that, yeah, usually he'd have changed before they left the studio, long before they got back to the hotel. "If I did?"

Adam laughs, breathless and low, and grasps Tommy's hand again, lifting it, biting Tommy's fingertips, running his tongue over the calluses that feel a-fucking-mazing on his skin, but not tonight. "Oh, baby, you have no clue."

The thing is, Tommy probably does have a clue, and that makes it even hotter when Adam slips the loop of the tie over his wrist and when Tommy willingly gives Adam his other hand so he can bind both slender wrists in that noose, sliding the knot up snug. "You tell me if you get pins and needles."

Tommy nods, and Adam looks away from the perfect contrast of thin black tie over the crisp whiteness of shirt cuffs to see Tommy's face, see those full lips parted and that's too much temptation to resist. One hand holding the tie, he slides the other possessively into Tommy's hair, fingers curling to grasp and pull Tommy's head back for a kiss, slow and deep and simmering with threat and promise. Tommy makes this soft, gorgeous noise in the back of his throat, and Adam returns it, darker, satisfied, hungry, his cock filling from the music of it.

He bites Tommy's lower lip as he draws back, catching it in his teeth and tugging, just for the color and extra fullness it gives. "Bed," he says softly, and doesn't let go of the tie. There's just enough slack to let Tommy move, stumbling slightly, enough for Adam to slip his free arm around Tommy's shoulders to steady him until Tommy can fall onto the bed and thank fuck for a hotel room with a proper headboard, one he can wrap the ends of the tie around to secure Tommy into place. It's possible, if Tommy really wants, for him to get enough slack to work the noose free and get his hands out, Adam's careful to make sure of that, but the thing he really loves is that Tommy doesn't, tugging against the restraint instead as if to reassure himself it will hold.

It will.

Binding Tommy’s hands over his head just stretches him out for Adam, glorious lean twist of slender body, long legs, neat, tiny ass that fits so perfectly in his hands, the chest that’s more muscle than suggested under the loose clothing Tommy hides himself in on stage. Adam slides his hands up Tommy’s legs, under that loose shirt, until he can get his hands on skin, fabric lifting and bunching around his wrists. “You with me?”

When he looks up again, Tommy’s looking down at him, eyes half-closed, lower lip caught in his teeth, and the only response he gets to his question is a sound somewhere between a moan and a whimper that goes straight to his cock. Pretty definite agreement that Tommy’s on board with this, but he needs that audible agreement along with the fact that he can see the bulge of Tommy’s cock pressing against his pants. “Okay. Okay, honey, I've got you.”

So completely, humbled by the trust, and moving swiftly to loosen Tommy’s shoelaces, get rid of heavy shoes and socks as quickly as possible so he can get back up to somewhere Tommy can see him and get more contact. Slower as he unfastens the buttons on Tommy’s shirt, one at a time, smooth fabric parting slowly as he chases the exposed skin down with kisses. He pauses to bite once he’s got enough access to lick over Tommy’s nipple, feeling the tension leap under his lips, the unsteady beat of Tommy’s heart to go along with the moan that he gives.

He doesn’t linger, not yet, not until he’s got all the buttons open and Tommy’s shirt pressed back to bare his torso, clear and pale down to the low waistband of Tommy’s pants, riding low on his hips, still belt free. It's an invitation that Adam doesn't even want to try to refuse. He pops the button on Tommy’s fly, slides the zipper down, peels the fabric back to show the sharp line of Tommy’s hipbone. He's not going for Tommy’s cock, not yet, palming that through his pants, just covering it with his hand and pressing down slightly when Tommy shifts his hips, restless, reassuring. “I've got you,” he repeats softly, licks along that rise of bone, then blows over it, smiling delight at the shiver Tommy gives and the goosebumps rising across his skin.

“Adam...” It’s more of a breathless whine than a word, but it’s the most beautiful Adam’s ever heard his name. He grins, lips curving against Tommy’s skin, licks again, and then bites sharply, sucking his mark dark on pale skin as Tommy curses above him, headboard creaking faintly when Tommy pulls against the tie. He takes his time, enjoying the tension, the sounds, the way Tommy fights not to move away but can’t stop the shudders running through him, the hardness pressed against Adam’s palm.

“Want something, baby?” he murmurs, when he finally lifts his head, and grins, satisfied and happy to see Tommy look down at him, eyes meeting over the tense lines of Tommy’s body.

“Fucking tease,” Tommy says breathlessly, and drops his head back against the pillows, eyes closing, exposing a curve of throat that’s almost enough to entice Adam to move. Not quite, though, tempting as the idea of leaving his mark somewhere Tommy can’t hide is, Adam’s more tempted to slide Tommy’s pants down, slipping smoothly over narrow hips and thighs. Not naked, because the shirt’s still around Tommy’s shoulders, cuffs still held by the thin tie, but completely exposed to him, for him, eyes drawn to the mark already darkening, rich purple on Tommy’s hip.

He leans forward, rests his hand over it, fingertips pressing lightly on the edge of the mark and watching Tommy's cock twitch in response. “Tease?”

Tommy groans, faint rustle as his head shifts on the pillow, and arches his hips, pushing harder against Adam’s touch. “Adam...”

Better, softer, lower, more of a rasp to it. Adam presses down, holding Tommy’s hips to the bed. “Stay still for me, Tommy, just hold still, just a couple moments. I’m right here. You can see me, I'm here with you.”

Just moving away enough to get out of his own clothes. Much easier than the suit he’d worn to perform, since Adam had taken time to change at the studio into a t-shirt and jeans that take only a few seconds to strip out of. The boots take a little longer, but it’s still hardly any time before he’s tugging on Tommy’s ankles, making sure the man’s completely stretched out for him. Tommy’s fingers curl against the satin-smooth tie, and he lets out a little sigh, body shifting to move as Adam wants him, getting him into the perfect position, pushing his knees apart and thighs wide. Tommy murmurs something unintelligible, and Adam grins, smoothing his right thumb along the inside of Tommy’s thigh.

One more reason to move away, though, to fetch condoms from his toiletry bag. He’s pretty damn sure they’re both negative for everything, but getting tested regularly isn’t easy when they’re traveling around this much, so it’s better safe than sorry, and he’s not taking any risks where Tommy’s involved. At least he’s managed to pick up some decent ones - Amsterdam was _amazing_ for stocking up - without spermicide, because that shit tastes nasty.

He stretches out on the bed alongside Tommy, condoms left in easy reach, and runs one hand idly over Tommy’s chest, fingers curled to scratch lightly. Tommy’s head turns towards him, eyes opening, and Adam wonders about trying this again sometime with a blindfold. Not now, because fuck, he loves that look in Tommy’s eyes and like hell he’s stopping long enough for another tie, but another time, after they’ve talked about it. “Okay?”

Tommy makes a frustrated sound and twists, body rolling towards Adam. “If you don’t do something soon, I fucking won’t be.”

Adam laughs, and presses Tommy onto his back again with a push of his hand. “Patience, baby. I’mma make you feel so good...”

He glances up at Tommy’s hands again anyway, checking for any sign of discoloration in his fingertips, but there’s nothing that would worry him. Instead, there’s the slam of lust from seeing the tie holding Tommy’s wrists in place, and the way Tommy’s hands are twisted so he can hold onto it.

He reaches up, traces his fingers over the tie where it wraps around Tommy’s wrists, over the cuffs of the shirt, up to the sides of his hand, rubbing softly. “All mine,” he says happily, and laughs when Tommy turns his head, teeth connecting with his forearm in what is, all considered, a pretty gentle bite. “D’you wanna come tonight or not?”

Tommy _growls_ , and Adam’s grin widens, so fucking satisfied with that reaction. “Then you let me do this in my own sweet time.”

He’ll make it good. He’ll make it so good, slow as a tease as he works his way down Tommy’s torso again, kisses and bites and licks and caresses mapping every inch of skin. He doesn’t even lift his head to look when he reaches for a condom, knowing where he left them, feeling the foil graze his fingers just as he reaches Tommy’s belly and dips his tongue into Tommy’s navel. (He really, really fucking loves how ticklish Tommy is.)

When Tommy squirms, Adam bites down, just enough to feel Tommy freeze and go still, hear his breath go shallow and rapid, that edge of fear that’s purely instinctive, no matter how much trust they’ve built up between them. Once Tommy’s completely still (and tense), Adam lets up, licks over the fading dents of teethmarks in Tommy’s skin. “ _My_ time,” he whispers, and doesn’t move again until he hears a breathless, thin agreement from Tommy.

Once he’s got that, he sits back, kneeling between Tommy’s legs, and rips the condom packet open, eyes steady on Tommy’s face. And Tommy’s watching him, so fucking hot, that heavy-lidded look that says Tommy’s not thinking about anything but sex, and Adam, and Adam and sex. Finally he lets himself close his hand around Tommy’s cock, stroking just once for that stuttering sigh before rolling the condom on, thumb and finger guiding the thin rubber down Tommy's shaft and feeling Tommy fighting to stay still. Fighting and succeeding.

“Got you,” he murmurs once more, flicks a glance down, and then fixes his eyes back on Tommy’s face, neck arching as he dips down, bends, takes Tommy’s cock into his mouth. No more teasing now, not slow, just sucking him in fast and deep, hands firm on Tommy’s hips, thumb over his mark, lips and tongue working to get Tommy off as quickly as possible.

Adam loves sucking cock. There’s something really fucking intoxicating about giving that much pleasure, having that much power over someone, but above and beyond that, he just loves the way cock feels in his mouth, and Tommy’s fits in so fucking perfectly. He knows, by now, how to angle his head to rub the head of Tommy’s cock against the roof of his mouth and the sound Tommy’s going to make when he does it. He knows when to suck, he knows where to press his tongue to get that strangled, almost startled groan, and he knows that with his hands free, Tommy’s fingers would be deep in his hair right now.

With Tommy’s hands tied, Adam gets to keep control. He gets to push, hard and sloppy and loving it, gets to swallow Tommy down and hear the keening, desperate stream of curses and pleas gradually rise in pitch until there’s that blissful, perfect moment of tension and silence, everything balanced in potential until Tommy breaks, coming with a broken cry and a shudder that has Adam tightening his grip on Tommy’s hips, more to keep him close and maximize contact than for control.

Though not choking on cock is a bonus, too.

He waits, staying where he is, staying down, holding Tommy's cock in his mouth. More gentle now, not pushing, just keeping that contact, that intimacy. He can feel the pace of Tommy's heartbeat through the pulse resting against his tongue, can feel the tension ease under his hands to a gorgeously pliant relaxation. Letting go, he smooths one hand over the mark, _his_ mark on Tommy's hip, and the other takes hold of the base of the condom, holding it secure as he lifts his mouth away and finally looks up again at Tommy's face.

Tommy's always pretty, even first thing in the morning before coffee, but he's seriously beautiful when he's post-orgasmic. Lips bitten full and dark, all trace of gloss gone, mouth slack in satiation, eyes soft and dark, slitted as if his eyelids are too heavy to open fully, a faint flush coloring pale cheeks and sharpening the line of his cheekbones. Adam reaches up, fingers skimming over skin, and touches Tommy's lips, feeling the heat there in the bare heartbeat before they part and Tommy licks his fingertips. It's another rush of heat, another bolt of lust straight to his cock, that wet slide of heat that wakes sense memory in tight anticipation.

"Tommy," he whispers, swallows to clear his throat and tries again, still husky. "Baby, can you roll for me? Just onto your side, I've got you."

He's not sure that he's got Tommy. He's not sure he's got himself, but he's gonna hold it together long enough to take care of his boy. "Roll for me, honey."

One hand on Tommy's hip, he half-urges, half-helps Tommy onto his side. Just enough to let gravity help him get the condom off without spilling come back onto Tommy's skin, tie it off and drop it off the side of the bed before he slides up, wrapping himself around Tommy. Skin to skin contact, the shirt a crumpled wreck still around Tommy's back, creases from the fabric pressed red into the smoothness of Tommy's skin. He runs his hand down over the creases, then up, along Tommy's arms to the leash of the tie, only stopping when Tommy makes a soft sound he's learned to interpret as protest. "Tommy?"

He lifts his head enough to see Tommy's face, enough to see Tommy's expression if he still can't speak. "Hands hurting? Your fingers?"

Tommy shakes his head, hair falling across his face until Adam brushes it away. "Leave them?" His voice sounds even lower than usual, rusty from lack of use.

Adam slides up and kisses Tommy's wrists, just above the place the tie still holds them firmly together. "No, honey, not like this, not any longer."

"Just a bit?" Tommy turns his head again, eyes dark and heavy. "Please?"

Too long. Adam shakes his head, and hardens his heart to ignore the sounds of protest and the way Tommy's pulling against the slipknot to make it tighter. He frees it from the headboard, wraps himself more closely around Tommy when Tommy curls up, and eases the tie free from Tommy's wrists. Then he gets rid of the shirt and finally gets complete skin to skin contact, kissing the back of Tommy's neck. "Okay. You're okay, I've got you."

Tommy grumbles something completely unintelligible but rubs his head against Adam's shoulder, so he figures they're probably okay. And he _has_ got Tommy, holding onto him, one hand petting Tommy's stomach and the other rubbing over Tommy's wrists, light and rhythmic. "Can you talk, baby?"

There's another grunt and a sigh, then Tommy shifts in his arms, wriggling until he can turn over to face Adam. "Wanted to stay," he says softly.

"I know." Adam kisses Tommy, almost gentle, ignoring the demands of his dick because seriously, that can _wait_. "Not tonight, though, yeah?"

Tommy sighs again and shifts so his hair falls over his face. "Wanted you to fuck me before untying me."

Okay, Adam's dick _definitely_ approves of that idea, even if his brain is firmly on the not-risking-Tommy's-wrists-in-a-sliding-knot-any-longer team. "Another time," he promises. "Next hotel, we'll get some hand cuffs, strap you up for me... you'd be so pretty in a cock ring, black leather against your skin, holding you back for me, couldn't come until I let you go..."

Tommy whimpers and bites Adam's shoulder. Pretty gently, by his standards. "Tease."

"Only if I don't follow through." Adam grins and strokes his hand down Tommy's back, lingering over his ass. "Ever known me to not follow through?"

"Now?" Tommy says grumpily and wriggles against Adam's hand. "Adam, c'mon, please. Fuck me."

God, he wants to. Probably too much. He's been hard so long it's not going to take much to tip him over the edge and finish him off, and taking the time they'd need to get Tommy stretched and ready for him is probably not going to happen. "Saturday," he says. "We've got Sunday off, Saturday night we can do whatever we want." And Tommy will have enough time to recover that he's not walking awkwardly at the show or getting pissy about how sore his ass is every time the bus hits a pothole.

Tommy slides his hand down to Adam's ass in return and pinches it, harder than he'd bitten. "But I wanna get you off _now_."

Adam's eyes half close at the pinch, sharpness of the pain easing quickly into heat, and he arches his back - away from the pinch, towards Tommy. "It's not gonna take much," he says breathlessly. "Gimme your hand?"

That gets him a grin, sudden, bright and happy, and Tommy's hand around his cock, guitar calluses rough and gorgeous against his shaft. "You're still fucking me on Saturday."

"I fucking am," Adam agrees, voice thickening, and gives himself over to Tommy's hand and Tommy's kisses for a blissful couple of minutes until he can't hold back any longer and he's coming, tension shivering into slow waves of warm pleasure as he spills over Tommy's fingers and his own stomach.

Later, he'll worry about cleaning up. Later, he'll get those handcuffs ordered. (He might even make Neil do it, because that's plain funny.) Later, he'll start thinking again. Right now, he's used the last of his energy and he's just going to pull the covers over both of them, kiss Tommy again, and let the physical relaxation of orgasm and the emotional relaxation of holding Tommy drag him down into dreamless sleep.


End file.
